Liaison
by Vashagud
Summary: They know what they do is wrong. AerithSephiroth.
1. Approaching Shadow

The air was already wet before the rainfall, even his hair had started the raise and frizz under the light spray of chemical rain. Well, if he needed to be any more a spectacle there it was. But he knew better, the eyes he felt on him as he went along weren't because every silver strand of his wasn't in place. It was because of who he was, it was because of where he was.

He didn't like the slums. It was a filthy, decaying place, and the people did not even bother to pretend they weren't staring. He wasn't alone in his feelings, Zack apparently couldn't stand it either. He had grown up in the country, and Sephiroth supposed the man had more reason than he to hate this place. He knew the only reason Zack even came down here was to see...

Sephiroth pushed the thought out his head as quickly as he could, a bitter taste in his mouth. He wasn't doing anything wrong. He had business in the slums and that was all. He lingered by shop after shop, refusing to even admit his pretense to himself. Then it cut through the air, something sweet slicing into something rotten. His nose tickled and he turned to see a bit of pink between the tangle of arms and legs made by the Midgar rush.

He didn't need to say anything as he moved toward it, he was given a wide berth. That's how most of them were, afraid. As they should be. The man found his eyes following a long row of buttons, flexing his fingers. She didn't have any flowers today, it was too bad because he liked the white ones especially. Such a pretty little thing. Her eyes were to the ground and stayed there, even as he stood nearly in front of her.

Refusal. He knew it well enough, but he knew better when she finally raised her head that it was a passing thing. In the moment he knew he was a deplorable man. But at the same time he felt that he was beyond that and self aware enough to know and accept his own corruption.

"General...my boyfriend has told me so much about y-"

"Flower girl." He interrupted the pantomime she always put up, playing into it and yet breaking the illusion with the familiarity in his voice. She winced, he wanted to move the game along. She would always mention him first, say the same thing she said the first time they met. When it had truly been an accident.

He didn't know what it was about the game once it was initiated, but he stopped denying himself and instead worked to get it, bring her onto his plane. Because she was corrupted too, and it was only a matter of time. It was the release and control he craved all at the same time.

"His name is Zack, I think you kn-" This time she cut herself off, the look on his face made her tongue go to gum. Eyes narrowed, mouth taut. She hated it when he looked at her like that. After all of the things she'd let him do to her in that church, and she would still wither under his glare. Actions that _usually_ become a little less effective after such a personal connection is made.

She felt angry and so incredibly dirty, but she could never call herself a victim. She could feel her lines falling flat every time the chance came about that she might deny him, put an end to it and let the marks remind her it was all real. But she didn't want to face it or think about what linked them so tightly, she didn't want Zack to find out. Because she had normalcy with him and she was pretty certain that love was what they had together. Not this. Not something pursued in the dark, something that was so obviously wrong.

A beautiful man can make a girl so stupid.

Zack made her forget the voices in her head, the man in front of her reminded her they were there. Reminded her that she wasn't alone in her struggle with normal things. They didn't talk much at all, she could hardly even remember a time when he'd said her name, but that bond was there. Which made the whole thing even worse. She supposed that if this had been unavoidable, something superficial would've been easier on her mind.

Though, she wasn't going to pretend she was immune to his looks. She didn't know a person that was.

"Sephiroth. We cant...I don't...I have flowers to sell." It looked as if his patience was wearing. He only gazed down at her, waiting out the fight they both knew was temporary. She looked at him, eyes dark and troubled under the frizz. "Why...why don't you help me pick more?"

(A/n: Er...this was meant to be a drabble. Eh, even if it turned out longer than I wanted I had fun trying my hand at Aerith/Sephiroth. If you liked it or even if you didn't, I'd like to hear from you. Thanks for reading.)


	2. Brightest Eclipse

By the time they reached the church night had fallen. The streets were still slick from the rain and starting to fill with the usual skulking painted women. Aerith was usually heading home around now. She looked over her shoulder to try and spot him, but there was nothing. Not even one glimmer of silver. It didn't surprise her much though, he always chose to follow from a distance.

Nights like this saw her heading to her mother's house first. She didn't want to worry her anymore than she already did.

"Oh, Aerith! I didn't know what to think." Nights like this also saw her unable to look her mother in the eye. Elmyra already had a problem with Zack, what would she say if she knew what she was doing with a man many times more dangerous?

"I'm fine." she tried to smile reassuringly.

"I know, I just worry about you." Aerith put a hand on her shoulder.

"There's no need to." The older woman smiled, the corners of her eyes wrinkling.

"Well, you're home now." Aerith averted her gaze to the pot on the stove behind the woman.

"I...actually...was wondering if I could go to the church for a little while." Elmyra's smile dropped.

"The church?"

"Please? I have my rod and everything. I promise I'll be careful, my flowers-"

"Your flowers?" The older woman looked very reluctant.

"I'll be careful." Aerith felt incredibly guilty for playing the cards she did. She knew full well that even though Elmyra worried she could never deny her this. It was plain that Aerith belonged in that church, and the flowers were proof of whatever connection to her roots she had. Elmyra could never deny her that.

"How will you be able to see?" It was a different question every time she came to her at night, asking to go the church.

"It's never dark in Midgar." Aerith watched the walls now, her mother watched her.

"Right." Elmyra hugged her. "Be careful alright?"

"Yeah." A little bit of Aerith wanted her to just say no. She looked at the door. "Thanks." The corners of her mother's eyes crinkled again, but there was no smile.

"Of course."

When she entered the church he was there sitting, arms draped over the pew and looking straight ahead. Her ears flooded with the sound of her own heart, and she knew he was listening to it, she regarded him, already breathless.

"Stop it." she said quietly, feeling his attentions shift to her, instead of the frantic beating her heart. She didn't want him to hear her heart, for it was only further proof that she was indeed this person. He shifted in the pew, hair catching the unnatural light of the sky through the windows.

Sometimes she wondered if that was truly unconscious, that flaunting of his own beauty. A reminder that it was definitely as factor and yes, she had chosen to enter this of her own accord.

"Did your mother say it was alright?" it was indirectly cruel, and she frowned, strangely familiar with the malice that always seemed to lurk even under his simple conversation. They would rarely ever talk, but when they did there was always an undercurrent of something else, too ugly, or too true to be said aloud. It scared her that she had grown to understand him like this, it scared her more than the fact that he probably understood her in the same way. She drew nearer to him, basket shaking in her hands.

"That isn't funny." She said, watching him closely.

"No it isn't." he said, still turned away from her. No, it wasn't funny that he was doing this with a girl who still had to ask _permission_ to be out late. And yet these meetings would continue.

There was just _something_ about her. Something that despite her youth, told him that they were kindred spirits. He saw so much of himself in her, and he was drawn to that. He could not in good conscience let this rare and natural connection go, and in the process he found himself ruining the only other similar connection he had. He hated himself for doing this to Zack, but no matter how he tried he just couldn't stay away. He wondered bitterly if she knew how securely she had him under her thumb, how he'd do anything for her, better than anyone else could. Anything but let her go. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, one of his gloved hands flexing on the pew.

"Well?" he said, clearly on edge and losing his patience.

She only turned away from him, walking off to the back of the church. He followed her form with narrowed eyes. She would always do this, roam around the church and make like she actually had things to do. He listened as she groped around her different gardening tools, the loud scraping noise of her tools sliding against each other very loud in the tense silence.

He knew it was her way of stalling, of trying to find reason enough not to do this. But he also knew it was her way of bracing herself, her moment of justification. He didn't know how that worked out, but she would always come to him sooner or later.

He did get impatient though, she could do absolutely nothing for hours. He cringed as glass shattered in the back. He was genuinely surprised when he heard her footsteps coming down the aisle, fast and hard. It had barely been five minutes. He watched as she moved into the overgrown flowerbed in front of him and sank down to her knees. She turned her eyes to her task then, setting her basket and her little shovel down with a deliberate slowness, just so that he would see.

He raised out of the pew and moved over into the flower patch, careful as he could be. He lowered himself to his knees as well, his shadow still large enough to blanket her completely. He moved her basket and shovel farther away, still watching her with a light in his eyes similar to whatever strange pollution of the skies kept Migarian nights suspended in a dark and eternal twilight.

She looked away from that light and put her eyes and her hands into the task of getting him out of his clothes. He was very close to grabbing her hands and pushing them away, but he didn't, and found himself both absurd and deplorable in that fleeting violent moment. He stopped to look at her when her hands found the bottom of his armor, a bit clumsy and very obviously ignorant of how to go about removing it. She started to pull at his pauldron when nothing she tried worked, and he nearly smiled, redirecting her hands to his belts.

She made surprisingly quick work of his belts, looking up at him with big clouded green eyes as he went about removing the straps on his chest and the other shoulder guard, still to slowly for both their tastes. He found he was getting sloppy as well in his impatience and he felt ridiculous for his ineptitude with something he did damn near everyday. A hand down his pants made everything suddenly go blank.

"That's okay, you don't need to do that." she breathed in the stunned silence. Her cheeks reddened as she dared to move her hand lower, and as soon as she was about to muster up the gall to look into his eyes and tell him _I need you now, forget your ridiculous armor, _and possibly question the reasoning in wearing so many belts, he snatched the offending hand in his, eyes closed, hissing through his teeth.

"Don't... do that." She blinked and took her hand back, laying down in the grass in front of him, feeling that same shame that had struck her the instant she stuck her hand down his pants. It wasn't at all easy or normal her to be so forward. But what about this whole thing was easy...or normal? She started to unbutton her dress as slowly as her patience would allow for him, feeling foolish and jittery even as his hands came down on her and she could see things moving in the direction she wanted. But once the man was provoked, things only went in one direction, his. She felt him tear her dress open before it registered. She listened to the little muted sounds of her buttons hitting the dirt around her. But she couldn't really hold it against him now, they were after all working towards the same thing.

Still, she didn't know how she was going to explain that to her mother. He seemed to gain back some of his sanity in that moment. He looks suddenly apologetic and she feels as if he is the younger one in this, and she is the one who should know better. It would be so easy to say that he was taking advantage of her, but she doesn't feel as if that is the whole truth. Rare times when she glimpses this uncertainty, she sees herself in him and it makes her need him even more. She wonders how the planet could have ever chosen a daughter so corrupted.

"No, it's fine." she says, smile forced. It bothers her even more to think that half of the time her guilt has nothing to do with Zack. Sephiroth still looks apologetic, and she knows it isn't just about her dress. She runs her fingers through his hair when his mouth finds her neck, and his fingers find her hip and hook under the side of her underwear, bringing them down and off, tossing them somewhere in the grass.

She closes her legs on his hand, not in any mood to simply fool around, and noting his sneakiness. He knew she wanted him _this instant_, so what did he think he was doing?

"Open them." he says. She covers her face, feeling him move down her body, his leather and some of his harder armor brushing her bared skin.

"No." she says in a shuddering breath, chest heaving. "Sephiroth, I need..." he chuckles. It annoys her because he has actually taken the_ time_ to laugh, like they actually have that leisure. Like something about this warrants laughter, which it clearly doesn't. She doesn't like this leisurely way anymore. She just wants to get to it and just _forget._ He kisses her hip and she clamps her lips shut against any sounds, her body jerking anyway.

"I can already taste you." he says offhandedly, his mouth against her other hip. She grabs handfuls of his hair to maybe move him off, but it's so long it makes no difference to him. And she's frustrated that she doesn't completely want him to stop. They shouldn't be doing this so slowly like any part of this is right. Like they are lovers in the day as well as the night, and have the right to make love like they have all the time in the world instead of a few dark stolen seconds. Like she actually belongs to him. And that's one way they differ, because he always seems to believe she's his in moments like this, and would always rather make love to her than give her something rushed, surface and satisfying.

He gives her no way to make excuses. He gives her no reason to say that what they do is nothing beyond the physical. She bitterly acknowledges that there is so much more to them, and that she has and never will belong to anyone like she belongs to him. With the way he operates, the is no way she can deny it. It's deliberate, and sometimes she can't stand him for it. She can't stand that there is no way out, no way to truly fix this.

"Gods, this is so wrong." she whispers. Sephiroth pauses for a few beats, refusing to let his guilt catch up with him in this moment.

"I can make it right." he says, looking into her eyes with a conviction that scares her.

He pulls one of her legs onto his shoulder and she tries to move it but he stills her leg with one firm hand around her ankle, pulling it back to it's place on his shoulder. "You should accept this." He says with no anger, sounding as if the clouds in his head had momentarily cleared. He sounds so sensible, and she knows it's because they both know her acceptance is inevitable. She had made up her mind to do this with him more than once, _a lot_ more than once, so what was left but absolute acceptance? "If you resist me, you only make it harder than it has to be." Exhaling, she let him push her knees apart.

His tongue is slow and hot against her most private place, but it's his hair sliding against the insides of her thighs that makes her feel truly dirty. He stops before she hits completion, licking his lips and pulling her shaking form into his lap, looking proud and possessive. She rests her head on his shoulder, her forehead pressed against the cool metal of his shoulder guard.

The moment is so tender, she almost doesn't mind the pause. She reaches her arms up and around his neck, straightening to bring their faces closer together. The way he regards her, she can tell he understands what she means to do. He runs his fingers through her hair and she thinks he might kiss her. At the moment she wants that more than anything, more than what she'd initially come for.

She feels his hand still in her hair and he brings her face closer, his gaze thoughtful before it is suddenly angry. She feels her ribbon get snatched from her hair and sees his lip curl before she is tossed onto her back in the flowers. She doesn't understand what could've warranted the sudden change, and watches him undo his pants the rest of the way with a kind of furious haste she had pushed for earlier. She is afraid when he again takes her to him, sits her in his lap. She doesn't look at him, and he doesn't make her, only exhales in her ear as he pushes inside.

"I don't want it Flowergirl." His voice is heavy with what they're doing, but his words are still sharp. "I do not take what is not already mine." She whimpers as his hips start to move. She's so close to asking him to stop, but they are so far into it, it would be fruitless. And part of her just wants...

"More..._Sephiroth_..." It should've stopped feeling good long ago. The fact that it hasn't terrifies her. But she is grateful too, and wary of the day when it doesn't, when the thin strand they both hang by snaps.

Sephiroth can practically hear her thinking, and he is deliberately more forceful, eyes gleaming when her eyes cloud and he feels her thoughts cease. She's his and he wants her to understand it. His control slips a little further out of his grasp and he cloaks it in another excuse to make her realize. The next gasp into his shoulder could either be from pain or pleasure, but he doesn't care to know the difference at the moment. He just wants her to understand...

He knows how dangerous his slips are though, and he thinks about killing her. He thinks that if he killed her, she'd leave the world as his. He nearly stops at the thought. He is a monster. He might've thrown her off and taken his leave if not for the her insistent little hips, those maddening little sounds she made so close to his ear.

It happens so suddenly it takes them both by surprise and she sees white and hears him join her. And for all her noise during the actual thing, she can't seem to find her voice when it hits her, mouth open and nails digging.

He watches as she slumps and she comes down from the high. Her skin is smeared with dirt, her dress ruined, her hair a bit limp around her face. And she's still beautiful to him. But the way she looks at him, he feels she doesn't think the same of him. Her eyes tell him that she thinks they're wrong, that this whole thing is wrong.

And he knows she's right, but it always feels like slap in the face. No matter how good they are together he knows she'll always be thinking of Zack afterward. And his soul starts to burn greener than his eyes. Removing himself he put his things on, still watching as she rises from the dirt to disappear in the back of the church.

When she comes back, he is long gone and she knows she better get to gathering her things. Her mother is probably starting to worry again. But when she scoured through the flower patch she found nothing. She got back to her feet and looked around, one of the pews catching her eye. She approached it, finding her ribbon, shoes and buttons all sitting in her basket with her shovel.

She blinked, a bit stunned. She took the ribbon out and tied it back in solemnly, taking her basket into her arms, ready to head back home.

(A/N: I have to admit, I kinda see room for another chapter that's more about Sephiroth and Zack. I always feel bad if I haven't hit all the angles. But I'm really trying to do the less is more thing. I am fairly happy with it now, though that could be totally different tomorrow. I hope it was enjoyable, and tasteful. So much for brevity, but I tried? So yeah, any constructive anything, or just a comment would be cool. Adios.)


	3. Zenith in the Dark

It was probably nearing three o clock in the morning, and Zack was in the slums, hunched in a phonebooth with half a bottle of _something_ in his hand, talking to his mom. When he heard her concerned voice on the other end, he thought _oh fuck, I just drunk dialed my mom._ He didn't know how he'd done that considering he couldn't even see the metal buttons on the phone clearly. Somehow though, he could smell whatever they were coated with.

"Zack?" He didn't respond, hoping he would hear his name again. He really wanted to hug his mother. Not in the pick her up and spin her around way, but the just fallen off your bike way. The thought lingered, and he thought about what it would feel like to fall off his current bike going about 80 mph. It didn't seem so bad in his current state.

"Zack?" his attention came back to the phone in his hand as fast as the alcohol in his system would allow.

"Mom?" There was a laugh on the other end.

"No silly." The voice was tired, but effervescent. Like Aerith, or rather like she used to be. "Do you know what time it is?" even this had some undercurrent of mirth. Zack suddenly understood that this was not his mother. The pretty, nurturing woman that she was, the hours were not that different in Gongaga and she would undoubtedly be annoyed, or worried at the sudden call, or both. There was also a chance she might just hang up when she figured out how drunk he was, because she would know even if he had the ability to mask it. He had long accepted the fact that mothers just seemed to know things, to understand things. Even if you didn't. Kind of like...

"Zack?" He coughed.

"I'm here. Who's this?" he tried his best to sound sober, willing the mako to get him over it faster. Or not, because he was _plastered_ and still thinking about the next drink he would get if sobriety came too soon.

"You called me."

"Yeah, guess I did." he sighed, finding his foot very interesting.

"Zack, it's Cissnei." _that,_ sounded annoyed.

"Why're you in Gongaga?"

"You're drunk." that sounded disappointed.

"No."

"Yes."

"Okay, yes." she laughed again.

"Go to bed Zack."

"...Can't."

"Why not?"

"...Just can't."

"Zack? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." it came as easily out of his mouth as the drinks had went in. She sighed.

"I have to go."

"Wait!" the urgency in his own voice gave him a jolt.

"Zack, you didn't even mean to call me, I sh-"

"Please." there was a long silence on the other end.

"Fine. I hope you have a good seat in the phone booth."

"How did you..."

"It sounds different." He rolled his eyes, feeling it start to wear off. He sometimes forgot she was a Turk.

"Oh, I could come over." he took a swig. "Not in a weird way." she laughed. "Really, I just wanna talk." He knew it still sounded bad.

"...Okay." It didn't make him feel any better that she'd said yes. He'd kinda known she would.

On his way there, he thought about the 'charmed' life of his that seemed to be getting progressively worse. It really all started with a little rain, now it was pouring. The morning it had started to get noticeably worse he hadn't been able to find his uniform. He'd had it on nearly all day the day before, and had only taken it off to go to bed. It didn't make sense. And so by the time he gave up looking for it, he was already five minutes late to work. No other uniform was clean, so he threw on some civves and headed to work.

He was only going to be doing paperwork anyway. But he'd known as soon as he stepped into the office that Sephiroth would not be having it. For weeks Sephiroth had been in a mood, and Zack almost felt that with each passing day it got a bit worse. He could handle Sephiroth, very well. He counted himself as one of his only real friends, and he cared about him enough to be sensitive to those strange quirks and qualities that he had only ever seen in the general. He would back off when saw that the general genuinely needed some space, and he would get close and personal when the general was just to stubborn to admit that solitude was not always the solution.

Sure it still made the man uncomfortable, sure Zack still had bruises from times he pushed too far, but he felt he was beginning to understand his icy superior. He knew some of the reasons the man was like that, and it only made him want to keep on pushing it to show the man that he really was his friend. And in a way, he was sure Sephiroth was his friend too.

He just had a strange way of showing it. _Like fucking your girl? _The thought came in ferocious voice that was not his, and he ignored it, continuing on his way.

Anyway, Sephiroth's attitude had been getting progressively worse. At first the man had started to take issue with things he usually just let go. Like how he was usually around three minutes late for work. Zack had kind of been like a deer in the headlights, it had seemed so sudden. He should've noticed then that something was off, being the sensitive guy he is. Maybe he just isn't very bright.

He knows he has his moments, but he isn't brilliant like Sephiroth, and he is nowhere as astute as Spike. Which is a bit eerie considering how incredibly young the boy is. And for all of his doubts he is also pretty crafty. Zack doesn't say it, but he sometimes thinks that Cloud is better suited for the Turks. He would find out later that the kid had somehow gotten his uniform, and snuck it on one of the training dummies. Only once had he let the kid in his apartment and he still doesn't believe he might've memorized the keycode he still sometimes can't remember himself.

Thinking back on it, Zack realizes how bold it was for Cloud to do something like that. It was a prank meant in some kind of playful revenge and Zack realizes that Cloud had been kind of warming up to him, starting to believe they were friends. And Zack realizes that he had reacted to Cloud's harmless prank like_ he_ was the one who had stolen his girl.

"_Shit...do you know how much trouble this caused me today?" Cloud's smile had fallen here._

"_I didn't mean to-"_

"_It's not funny, Spike. Sephiroth totally layed into me because of this." Cloud had gone as white as milk here._

"_I'm sorry." Zack had grabbed his uniform then and went on his way, unthinking. He didn't think about Cloud and that as tough as he was, sometimes he was just...so fragile. Very much like Sephiroth._

But he had been so pissed and so fed up with Sephiroth's constant attack he didn't think. It hadn't really been too much trouble, it was just that Sephiroth seemed to be on the attack 24/7 now and it was kind of the straw break the camels back. And the prank _had_ been funny, fuckin' hilarious even. But he hadn't stopped to even appreciate it, what it meant, that he hadn't thought of it first. But he'd deliberately been like that because he knew that Cloud really did just want to please him, and couldn't imagine doing anything to displease him, let alone Sephiroth. He'd done it on purpose, because he had needed to take it out on someone, because sometimes he had those very real, ugly human moments, and because he was an asshole.

He should've known that something was wrong, and he did catch on at one point. He'd wanted to spar and Sephiroth kept on refusing. That was the red flag, because Sephiroth hardly ever turned anything like that down especially when he was offering.

"_I might hurt you." it wasn't patronizing, but almost a threat._

"_Come on Seph, I trust you." the look he'd gotten after that had not been one of anger, but something else completely. And it was so new and un-Sephiroth like that Zack froze in the elder's gaze until Sephiroth looked away, looking angry, disgusted, and...guilty?_

"_Get back to work._"

And sometimes he'd look up to find the man watching him, with that eerie glowing gaze, sometimes with a startling softness, sometimes with a ferocity equally as scary. He'd recently had a daydream that Sephiroth had come over skewered him over his paperwork. He'd woken with a start and found a very tired looking Sephiroth sitting back in his own chair, _not working_.

That had been the last flag to come up, something was wrong. Really wrong, and Zack had only wished the general would tell him what was going on so he could help.

He knew now why that was never going to happen.

Aerith had been another case altogether. The warmth he'd been drawn to had seemed to drain out of her each passing day. She didn't attack him like Sephiroth, she kind of did the opposite. The bubbly peculiar personality she was seemed to shrink away leaving her a bit cold, enhancing the mystery that always lingered around her. He knew she was somehow special, that she had secrets, but it never been so much of a block.

At times he didn't even feel as if they were in the same room. She was unreachable, and the times she wasn't he saw the effort she had to put into just to connect. He could see her fighting the block that had come between them, fighting it when he talked to her, when he touched her.

When he touched her it was almost as if she was making an effort to stand it. He didn't like to see her uncomfortable, and never wanted to be the cause of it. So once he just stopped, pulled away from her mouth, away from the dress that he had only gotten passed her shoulders. She'd pulled him back to her like she was desperate for his touch, determined to like it.

But it was clear she didn't really. She was shaking, not in the good way, and had such a look on her face that she looked as if his touch was causing physical pain.

"_You don't want this." she shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. He thought he was responsible for it, and had never felt so bad, and so completely confused._

"_I do Zack, I.." he didn't want to think what it meant, and he never would've guessed what it really meant. And so like a fool wanting to believe what was clearly a lie he kissed her, only to have her erupt into tears a second later. She cried into his shoulder with his jacket bunched in her hands, and didn't stop for what seemed like an eternity. He kind of wanted to cry._

"_I'm sorry Zack." she said breathlessly. Only now did he completely understand that apology. That had been about two weeks ago._

And now distanced for nearly every person he valued more than himself, this very morning he'd gotten the report. Cloud couldn't handle the mako. And if Cloud couldn't handle the mako then...

He'd found Cloud in some random wing, alone. Not a surprise.

"I'm so sorry Spike." Cloud didn't turn around. Zack knew why, he could smell the salt in the air. "Spike?" When the boy turned around he was pale as a ghost, more somber than he ever thought a face like that could pull off. But there were no tears and Zack was confused, until he spied the hands clenched at the boy's side. His knuckles were terribly bloody, and Zack didn't ask.

"_It doesn't matter."_

"_Spike-"_

"_It doesn't matter." Clearly it did. Probably more than anything in the world. But he doesn't say anything, because he's speechless when Cloud actually does start crying. Angry, reluctant tears. _

And so something brought him to that church at midnight. He wasn' t looking for Aerith, but some peace. No matter what there is always an aura around and inside the church that calms him. Even when his girlfriend is crying hysterically into his shoulder. He feels like he is caught in some kind of cartoon and smiles a little when he thinks about how wrong everything is going.

And then that smile was gone as fast as it came. He heard them before he saw them. He hears her soft little whimpers and inside them the wrong name. The name of his friend, who's shuddering breaths rattle loud in his ears. He hears the floor creaking in a rhythm that tells him what it is before he pulls the door open. Just enough that he can see in. He kind of hopes Sephiroth will hear him, see him. He watches, not in a perverted way, but he watches because he can't look away, he can't believe his eyes, and he wants it to make sense.

It's a million times more heartbreaking that it does make sense. Faster than either Sephiroth or Aerith understood, Zack sees them as kindred spirits, sees the strange connection they have naturally and he sees that it's not fucking. He knows what fucking looks like and he knows what it feels like, and that's not what they're doing.

He doesn't even want to say it he is so sickened. This is more than he wants to admit. His eyes burn so green, they kind of sting. And when he watches her writhe and arch underneath his general it is strangely erotic, and he doesn't know what to think of that. But in a glimmer of silver, he sees Sephiroth press forward into her like she's his and the eroticism is forgotten, replaced by a blinding anger, an overwhelming hurt brought on by his understanding that she _is_ his.

"_Sephiroth..."_ it is suddenly too much and he tears away from the doors, and he runs. He runs to a bar.

Cissnei opens the door in a dress shirt. It only comes down to her upper thigh and he turns away, heads to the couch.

"You made it." Zack frowns. She is so bubbly. He smiles. When she sits down next to him he isn't smiling anymore. Maybe he was kidding himself. "You wanted to talk." she has that innocence about her that he's drawn to despite the man he considers himself to be. He wants her to put on some pants.

"I forgot everything I wanted to say." She narrows her eyes, but she is still smiling.

"Hm." Her coffee table is suddenly very interesting to him. "Why did you really come here Zack?" He looks at her, looks away.

"I don't know." He does know. He knows that he thought about sleeping with her ten times already since being in her apartment. He thought about the physicality he craved, the revenge. He knew better than that though. And in a more sober mind, he knew that she did too. And he knew he'd feel even worse later if he took advantage of her feelings like that.

"Sure you do." She looked up at him, and he looked over, still slumped against her couch. She turned her gaze to her own hands. "But you wouldn't do it though."

"Cis-"

"You're too much of a good guy."

"Tch."

"No really, I probably wouldn't like you as much as I do if you weren't." she took his hand into hers. Her had was soft, and his grip was slack. "there are too many people who do the easy thing instead of the right thing."

For weeks after that he wondered what the right thing to do was. It might've been easy to call her a whore an be done with it, tell her that he knew and leave her alone after that. But that wasn't easy. He didn't really think of her as a whore. It was strange that after seeing what he had seen in her church no less, he still thought she was special in the way that something about her would probably always remain untouched, unspoiled. Sephiroth couldn't have it, and neither could he.

For weeks he didn't step foot in that church. It was the easy thing to do, and it wasn't.

"Zack?" And when he did see her again, he had the distinct impression that she had been the one to find him. He turned around, unable to look at her face. His shoes were getting a lot more of his attention lately. She came closer to him, and her presence was suddenly too sweet, too pervasive to ignore. He moved his gaze the flowers in her basket.

Immediately he thinks of all of the crushed flowers in her church. Sephiroth's shuddering breaths. And her arms are around him in that instant, some of her flowers scattering to the ground. It's like she knows, and she probably does. She has a new dress on, it's not pink, but black. It looks expensive.

"I...like this on you." He doesn't really. But he needs something to say. She laughs, and he is so grateful for it.

"I feel like I'm heading to my own funeral." she takes his hand. Her hands aren't soft, and really never have been. "But thanks." A split second later, she looks near tears. "I'm growing a new kind now." That's an invitation.

"Are they black too?" He doesn't realize how it sounds until it's out of his mouth. It was supposed to be a joke. She is silent for a few beats.

"You could see for yourself." she reaches into her pocket and pulls out these very strange, surly looking seeds. He laughs.

"You know that I can't-"

"Sure you can."

"Aer-" the look she gives him stops the words dead. "Okay, I'll try." He really will, and he's going to make the little bitches grow if it kills him, because he knows he won't be seeing any of her flowers otherwise, and he sure she knows it too. She is stronger than he or Sephiorth will ever be.

Sephiroth is unavoidable, but he tries. He takes off from work, he has time built up, he can afford it. Sephiroth is another deal altogether and right away Zack knows all the nasty things he could say to him, the fights he could start which would inevitably lead to him getting his ass thoroughly kicked.

That's the easy thing. But the right thing...he doesn't have time to figure out what that is because at the knock on his door at eleven at night, he knows he'll probably have to think on his toes. The general only knocks once, and when Zack opens up his mouth goes dry. And he's glad because he suddenly does not feel like he can be the bigger man. He almost closes the door, but Sephiroth brushes passed him into his apartment like he owns the place.

Zack closed the door, keeping his back turned to the general.

"Explain yourself." Zack is taken aback by the nerve.

"I decided to take some time off." he can't believe how calmly he can speak.

"You...decided..."

"Yeah, I _do_ do that sometimes." Zack doesn't care how it comes off. "What do you want Sephiroth?" He turns around when he is met with silence. Sephiroth is examining the flowers on his windowsill, they're a peculiar shade of violet and blue, mostly dead. He watches his general stand alone by the flowers he had worked so hard to grow, and he thinks how lonely he still looks. He is a little pissed that he can still be sympathetic at a time like this.

But it was undeniable. The man had everything (including his girlfriend) and still seemed to have nothing at all.

"You wanted to transfer?" Zack cringed. That's right, he _had_ put in for that hadn't he? It had been fairly early on and he had been angry. Probably drunk. But he had purposely done it in a way so that Sephiroth wouldn't find out. What a drunken thing to do. There wasn't a thing done that wouldn't somehow reach the man. But for him to have found out so soon meant he had probably been...

"Were you checking up on me?" There was silence and the glare he got made him wither a little.

"I like to be informed on why my soldiers-" Zack couldn't believe it. Sephiroth had been checking up on him. Because he was worried. He wondered how worried he was when he was with Aerith. Zack frowned.

"I was sick."

"You were not in the infirmary."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"It means you are lying." Zack scowled.

"Why does it matter?" Sephiroth approached him slowly, and Zack wasn't going to pretend he wasn't threatened. Faster than he could see he was lifted to his toes, the general's hands securely around his collar.

"I want to know why, soldier." The tone was dangerous, but Zack was to angry too care. At least until another realization hit him. Like an eighteen wheeler. Sephiroth thought he had left because of _him_, he thought he was trying to desert him. He had been avoiding him, but he never _really_ planned on...

"I wasn't going to leave Seph." Sephiroth blinked, the anger suddenly gone from his face.

"You wanted...to transfer."

"Look, it was stupid okay, I've just been going through a lot. I just...will you put me down?" Sephiroth let him down, still watching closely. Zack looked at the dead flowers. "I left her Seph." he froze. "I left her because it just wouldn't have been right to stay." Sephiroth held his gaze. "But I'm not leaving you."

Zack nodded, supposing that was as right as he could ever manage.

(A/N: Not exactly a happy ending, but I'm pretty happy with it. And now it feels finished. And if you feel like reviewing, do it! XD Thanks for reading.)


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